


Till death

by Captainmintyfresh



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest, braime endgame, fuck 8x05, post 8x04
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 09:51:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18808741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captainmintyfresh/pseuds/Captainmintyfresh
Summary: My take on Jaime leaving in 8x04 and what I'd personally like to see. Brienne isnt in the first chapter.





	Till death

Jaime had known the moment he decided to return to Kings Landing that it would not be easy. He knew it would mean giving up the small slice of happiness he had carved for himself in the snowy hills of the north. That it would mean leaving the one person who’d ever seen him as someone who could be something other than the Kingslayer, oathbreaker, that by doing so he’d be proving her wrong, that he truly had never been worthy of her love. That everyone who thought ill of him was right.

He had, however, thought that the problems would come _after_ entering Kings Landing, not before. He’d thought leaving Brienne would be easy, even when his original plan of leaving before she could wake had quickly collapsed around him when she followed him from their room he’d thought it would be simple. All he’d had to do was force himself to ignore the part of him that urged him to turn back around and apologise, to pull her into his arms and whisper confessions into her ear until her crying had stopped. And that, that was nothing, he’d grown used to pushing away his feelings, to ignoring the voices in his head begging him to make different choices since he was a teen. It should have been nothing.

Instead, even when weeks had passed and the snow from the north had turned to rays on sunshine of the south he found himself lingering on it. The way her hands had gripped his face and she’d said ‘stay’ and he’d almost done it, had felt his head dipping in a nod before he could stop himself as his very soul ached for him to put any thoughts of Cersei out of his head.

But he didn’t, couldn’t, not when there was another war brewing and a city full of innocent people, including his unborn child, hanging in the balance.

When Kings Landing was finally looming in the distance he’d thought that he could finally forget about Brienne, let the worries of what would happen when he entered the keep fill his mind rather than phantom touches to his cheeks and memories of her pleas whispering in the winds.

It became apparent when he found himself yanked from his horse by a snarling Jon Snow in the forests just outside of Kings Landing that he had once again been wrong in the thought his problems would start _in_ the city.

Jaime stood, dusting himself off even as Snow leveled a blade at his chest.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing your men for a war?” Jaime asked.

“Shouldn’t you be in Winterfell?” Jon countered, as cheerful as Jaime had ever seen him.

“I’m of more use here.”

“To which side?”

“I fought with you against the dead, why would you assume I would be doing any different here?” Jon pressed the blade into Jaime’s chest, hard enough for it to sting. Jaime rolled his eyes, stepping back and slapping the sword away.”You may not believe it but I want this war even less than you do.”

“You’re right, i don’t believe it.” Jon said

“I became the King Slayer because I wanted to save the people of King’s Landing. If Cersei and your Queen go to battle that will have been for nothing. Kings Landing will fall, between Dragons and wildfire and armies, you’ll be lucky if there is anyone left to rule.” Jaime paused, letting the words wash over Snow, watching the tick of the mans jaw as he accepted the truth of them. “Let me talk to Cersei, get her to see sense. To surrender.”

“Tyrion already tried to talk to her.” Jon said. “It ended in Missandei’s death.”

“Cersei has always hated Tyrion. However, as you and everyone in the seven kingdoms know, Cersei felt quite the opposite about me.” Jon Snow’s lip curled in disgust. “If anyone can make her see sense it will be me. It is my child she’s carrying.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Let me go. Stall Daenerys long enough for me to talk to Cersei. That’s all.”

“I can’t stop Dany-”

“Did i tell you to stop her?” Jaime said. “No. I said stall.”

“How am i meant to stall a war?”

“I don’t know - Distract her with a new strategy, teach her a new braid for her hair, have Tyrion tell her a story, Fuck her till Dawn. I don’t care. Just keep her mind off of the war long enough for me to stop it.”

“I can give you an hour, No more.”

“That’s all i ask.” Jaime said, inching back towards his horse.

“If you betray us-”

“If I betray you then your Queen will burn me alive before I can even leave the Red Keep” Jaime said, hopping onto his horse. “I don’t fancy being burnt alive, Do you?” Jon opened his mouth, as if jaime had actually intended for him to answer. He didn’t wait around long enough to hear the man’s answer.

*

Sneaking into Kings Landing was about as easy as Jaime had expected, which surprisingly, was very. Although Tyrion knew of other entrances to the city there were none fit for an army to pass through apart from the main gates. The other ways into the city were farr too small for either force to use for their advantage. Which meant that although they were guarded it was none to heavily, especially to the man who used to lead the Queens guard and knew them all by name.

All he had to do was announce himself and ask to talk to his sister before he was being hauled through the Red Keep like the traitor both sides no doubt thought he was.  

It was all too soon before he found himself once again looking into the unimpressed eyes of his sister. He straightened under her glower, eyes ever leaving hers even as his jaw clenched and he waited to hear his fate.

He had known, no matter what the outcome that his journey from winterfell to Kings Landing was a one way trip. Either he’d be killed on sight, Like Cersei wished him to believe she would do, or he’d have his way and he would be the traitor Brienne must believe him to be.

Cersei blinked slowly, eyes dropping away from Jaime’s as her chin tilted defiantly.

“Return to your posts.” No one moved more than to shift their weight. Jaime’s lips tipped in a smile he dropped his head to hide. He may be weak when it came to her, may have given her a world of chances and still be ready to doll out another but despite everything that said otherwise she had the same weakness for him. For here they were, ready to give another chance despite the impending war. The mountains hand rested on the hilt of his sword. “Leave us.” Cersei ordered, the room emptied at once. The rattle of armored soldiers walking away echoed down the hall as Jaime stayed in place, watching Cersei whisper to Clegane under his lashes. The abomination stomped past him, leaving them alone.

“Cersei.” Jaime breathed. Her stomach had rounded since the last time he’d seen her, not by a lot, but enough he could see it, the beginning curve of a bump. Her lips curled in a smile at his reverent tone.

“Why are you here?” She asked pointedly. Apparently there was no time for small talk when a war was brewing.

“To get you to see sense. You can’t win this war.”

“Can’t i? Your war in the north wiped out most of the Dragon Queen’s army. We have already killed one of her dragons and taken her ships. I know i’m not as well versed in war as you and father but I would say I already am winning.”

“There is no ending where you sit on the throne.” Jaime snapped, imploring her to understand. “Either Daenerys wins and takes the throne or-”

“Or we win.” Cersei said.

“And destroy Kings Landing in the battle. There will be no throne left when the city is rubble and if there is do you think the people will back you? knowing that you brought their city to ruins? First a war with the North, then Blackwater, now this, all under your watch. They will call for your head for the suffering our family put them through.” Cersei’s eyes shifted, moving to look out the window with cold indifference. “Please, Cersei.”

“If I surrender your dragon queen will have me killed.”

“She is not my Queen.” Her gaze found him for a moment.

“Perhaps not, but the point still stands. She’ll have me killed.”

“Then we don’t surrender.” Jaime pushed. “We can leave.”

“How? There’s an army at the door.”

“And yet, I got in.” Jaime said. “We know every inch of this city, every secret passage out of it. We’ve fucked in most of them.” Hope bloomed as the edges of her mouth twisted in the faintest hint of a smile. His golden hand found the small of her back, her shoulder nudging at his chest. “We can leave, Cersei.” he repeated. “Cross the narrow sea. Make a life for _our_ child.” He let his left hand brush over her rounding stomach. Her eyes found his, body turning further into him as her hand covered his own and her lips sought out his, drawn together like they always had been.

He remembered when he would have done anything for one more kiss from her. When simply the memory of tasting the tangs of wine from her lips was enough for him to endure months in chains in the Starks prisons. When his body would yearn for her.

Now, now she tasted like ash, the tang of wine tasted like the blood he’d spilt in her name. His body begging him to step back, to shrink away from the monster he’d helped her become. His mind reminding him of other lips, of wine too sweet for Cersei’s tastes.

He tried to push it down,to bury it in the very back of his mind. Told himself that he had a chance, if, for once, he could be like Tyrion and say the right words, string together pretty sentences that hit their marks he would have everything he’d once wanted. He’d have Cersei all for himself, they could have a family, new lives where he could leave titles like Kingslayer and oathbreaker behind him. Go somewhere where no one knew them.

He could have it all. It was within reach, even for a cripple like him. All he needed to do was what he’d always done. Ignore what Cersei was.

And yet.

Cersei pulled back, her breath ghosting over his lips, her eyes hard as stone as she took in his face before she stepped away. He let her, his hands falling back to his side as he watched her own lift to her mouth, brushing across her lips.

“Something’s changed.” The words were little more than a whisper but he still heard them. He wanted to laugh, he remembered a time, long ago, when the thoughts of kissing her still made him feel warm and they still had three children alive and navigating the world. When he’d said the same thing to her. It only seemed fair to reply in kind.

“Everything’s changed.” Jaime admitted, but where her reply had been anger he could only find grief. If only he’d realised back then the path they’d been walking down for years, if only he’d cared enough to change it.

“Don’t tell me that beast of a woman got into  your head with her talk of honour and-”

“Don’t.” The word had slipped out past Jaime’s lips before he’d given it permission to. He watched as Cersei’s eyes widened, biting his tongue to keep himself silent as realisation painted Cersei’s face and she let out a huff of laughter.

“Tell me, have you fucked her yet?” Copper filled his mouth as he urged himself to stay silent, mind reeling as he tried to figure out how to get the conversation back on track. Something that would be easier if it weren’t for the imagines sneaking into his brain. Brienne’s damp eyes and awe inspiring smile as he knighed her, Brienne bloody and exhausted after the battle for dawn, Brienne in the fire light, breathing stuttering as they walked back towards the bed.

_Stay with me_

Jaime swallowed around the lump in his throat, shoving Brienne out of his mind and refocusing on Cersei, the amusement gone from her face, eyes narrowed and lips pursed.

“You fucked her.” She breathed. Fo the first time in what felt like years Jaime could hear the hurt in her tone. The betrayal. He wished he felt guilty for putting it there, for hurting her but instead found an odd sense of smugness leaching through him. A voice screaming ‘that’s how it feels’. The vulnerability was gone as quick as it came, replaced with the anger he knew so well. “Of course you did.” She hissed. “Men are lead by their cocks. I am surprised you didn’t just find the Bastards direwolf to fuck though, much more appealing than the sow you-”

“It doesn’t matter-” Jaime begun stiffly, interrupted by Cersei barking out a laugh.

“Doesn’t matter? You abandoned me, you abandoned us-” Her hand fell to her stomach, her eyelids fluttering as tears formed that Jaime knew all too well to be fake.

“I did not abandon you, I kept my oath. To the North, to the living. I went to fight against the dead so that our child would have a world to grow up in and you repaid that by threatening to kill me. You would have killed me if you’d hired a less ambitious sellsword.”

“You slept with someone else.”

“I did.” Jaime said.

“Let me guess. She was nothing like me-” And that was the understatement of eternity, the only thing Cersei and Brienne had in common was that Jaime had been unable to stop himself from falling for them. “-and you realise that an regular whore wouldn’t do it for you  That you needed me.” She finished, voice high with satisfaction. If there was one thing that had never changed about Cersei since they were children it was her assurance that Jaime needed her like he needed air.

“No, quite the opposite actually.” Jaime admitted, unable to stop the small flare of a smug smile as Cersei’s eyes narrowed. “I could have been happy-” He thought of Brienne laughing over breakfast, a strange bray of a sound that left Jaime laughing right along with her. “-i was happy, for a while.”

“If that’s true why are you here?”

“Because you needed me.” Jaime said, squaring his shoulders and facing her even as she scoffed at the idea. “Things may not be the same between us anymore but I don’t want you to die, I don’t want our baby to die. We have lost too much and i know we don’t deserve another chance but when have we ever cared what we deserve? So please, Come with me. We will figure out the rest later, when we’re safe but we need to go.” Cersei moved to her desk, picking up her goblet, her fingernails drummed against the edge of the cup. Her tongue trailing over her teeth before she clicked it with a sudden note of finality.

“It’s too late.”

“No.” He said, taking a step towards her, she mimicked him, stepping back in turn and Jaime froze. “Cesei, it’s not. We can still stop this. If we leave no war will be fought we-”

“Always so stupid.” She hummed. “You really believe I would let myself be distracted by you when there is an army at the gates? I have the order the second you arrived.” Cersei said.

“What order?” Jaime inquired. Her lips curled, twisting at the edges like one twists a knife in a stomach. His heart hammered in his chest, his palm sweaty as Cersei’s eyes jolted up from the wine swirling in her goblet to meet his as she raised it for a sip, tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth like she was tasting the words before she said them.

“Burn them all.” She purred, sipping her wine.

Her words echoed through his head, like fog, both there and completely  untouchable. His mind suspended in water as her words floated by him.

_Burn them all._

“For once you were right, about my people turning on me. I’m sure they would, if I pushed them into another war. But i didn’t, I’m the queen who kept the gates open to let my people find sanctuary behind our walls. I publicly offered the Targaryen whore a chance to surrender. Meanwhile the dragon queen and our dear brother plotted against us. They used Tyrion’s knowledge of the city to plant dragon fire in the tunnels beneath our walls  to bring them down.”

“No one will believe that.”

“I am the Queen. They will believe what I tell them to believe.”

“You will kill hundreds-”

“I’d say thousands.” Cersei said calmly.

He remembered the horror as he watched the Dothrakis burning swords die out, as he listened to their screams become all too quiet, how his blood had turned to ice as the first wave of the dead had hit and he’d known he’d never face anything as horrifying. At least, he’d thought he knew but as he looked at Cersei repeating the words that so often haunted his nightmares he couldn’t help but think he was wrong as he saw the same utter lack of remorse swimming in cersei’s eyes as he did in theirs.

There was emotion there, of course, hatred and anger and pain, but nothing that quelled the thirst for blood. He wondered when it had changed, when she’d gone from the spiteful little bitch he loved to a power hungry monster fit for a bedtime story. Had it been when Myrcella had died, or perhaps after, when the world had carried on like nothing was amiss.

As if on cue the wary silence of the city broke. A crack sounded, like the Gods themselves had stomped their feet all at once, an ear splitting boom as green light flashed outside and the windows shook in their panes.

“What have you done?” Jaime breathed, body trembling as screams begun to tear through the city below.

“Won the war.” Cersei said. He watched in horror as she walked to the window, looking out with a soft sigh and sipping her wine like she hadn’t made the sky fall down around them. Bile crept up in his throat.

_Burn them all._

He didn’t stop her before, had watched his sister, his lover, falling further and further into the darkness and had barely said a word or tried to curb her more violent impulses. He’d ignored it had hidden her actions with excuses, with his love for her.

He felt like a young man again. Not in the way most people did when they looked back on their youth, thinking of the good, remembering the smiles and the laughs, a nostalgic ache of happiness. He felt the weight of his youth, he heard the screams and smelt the burning flesh. When he finally realised he couldn’t shut it out anymore, couldn’t pretend to ignore what was happening around him. The numb as he realised what it was he had to do.

He didn’t stop her before. But now, this once, he could do the right thing.

“Cersei.” He breathed, footsteps leading him to her side. She held her head high, satisfaction on her face as another boom rattled the city and green painted the room. “Cersei.” He sighed, fingers dancing across her shoulder, tugging her round to face him. His left hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing against the soft skin.

“I will not give up the iron throne.”

“I know.” He dropped his hand to her throat without anymore preamble, fingers digging in hard as he tried to force the air from her lungs. Her eyes blew wide the moment his hand found it’s destination and if the situation were different Jaime would have been thrilled that for once he had been able to surprise her. That for once he didn’t fall where she wanted him to like a load dice.

As it was he couldn’t be happy, not when her hands were shoving at him frantically as she tried to moved away only for the gold hand pressing against the back of her head to stop her.  She had never been afraid of him but now he could almost taste the fear on the gasping little breaths the slipped past her lips every time she managed to nudge his hand away for a split second.

The table rattled as he shoved her back against it, her goblet tumbled to the floor, spilling wine across the stones. Her hands scrambled behind her, scratching at the wood hard enough for him to hear the snap of her nails against it.

Suddenly her hand was back, shoving hard against his side and leaving him letting out his very own yelp of pain. Jaimes eyes dropped down between them, her fingers in a white knuckled grip around a large broach protruding from his skin. He watched in shock as she yanked it out, his blood dripped down his side, mixing in with the wine at their feet. Her hand snapped towards him again, ready to stick the bloody pin back into him.

Jaime dropped the hand from her throat, grabbing her wrist and twisting hard enough to leave her shouting out as the lion-headed broach fell to the floor by their feet. He remembered grabbing her before, how he’d take her wrists and tug her into him, how he’d capture her mouth with his own to stop her tirades of worries.

He used it again now, pulling her towards him, leg tangling into her skirts as he hooked his foot around her ankle and tugged it out from beneath her.

The two tumbled. Cersei’s head cracking back against the ground before she let out a yelp of pain. Jaime had his hand back on her throat, smothering any other desperate whimpers away before they could pass her lips. Leaning his body weight onto his arm and using the gold hand to push against the back of his palm.

“I’m sorry.” He said as her nails clawed at his arms digging gouges and her cheeks turned from pink to purple.

Her eyes watered, teardrops splashing down on her cheeks as they fell from his own face

“I’m so sorry.” And he was, he’s sorry he didn’t stop her sooner, sorry he ever let it get this far, sorry that it’s the only way. He was sorry that still, even now there was a part of him that loved her, after everything she’d done, to him, to other people, to their children. Sorry that a part of him wanted to stop. That part of him wished that she had killed him on site so he wouldn’t be the one to have to put a stop to her.

“God’s Cersei, I’m sorry.” He was sorry that another part of him hated her. That he could feel all of it, the vile corruption they’d enabled in one another bubbling to the surface beneath his skin forcing his hand to press down harder even as the air in her lungs ran out and she stopped being able to fight.

He pushed down until her pulse disappeared beneath his fingertips and then he rolled off, back hitting the floor as he heaved in breaths like he was the one who’d been being choked. He listened to the screams of terror outside. Another flash of green left him flinching, wincing in pain as he was reminded that the scratches on his arms weren’t his only injuries.

Jaime looked down at his hand, automatically pressed over the wound trying to stem the flow of blood leaking out of it. His eyes shifted back to Cersei’s slack face beside him his vision blurring as he waited for her to let out a breath he knew wasn’t coming.

She was beside him but for the first time in his life she was truly unreachable.

His blood was hot underneath his palm, scorching like the wildfire outside. The sounds from outside the room fading into a soft buzz like the bees in the first weeks of summer as he imagined he could hear her calling to him. Telling him to follow her like he always did. Whispering into his ear that they had come into the world together it was only right that they left together. His own voice swayed right next to her, mumbling along agreements. He had killed her, he had murdered his own sister, he’d killed his unborn child. He deserved to follow after them. His fingers twitched against his side. Mind screaming at him to move his hand, to stop putting pressure on the wound. To turn and face Cersei, to tuck himself into her side and let everything slip away, let his body slowly succumb to an endless sleep and be with her once again, where she could no longer hurt anyone.

His hand stayed in place. His lungs sucked in ragged breath after breath as if taunting the woman beside him. The hearth in the corner of the room crackled, the wood splintering as the dwindling flames threatened to turn to embers and ash.

_Stay with me._

He thought of Winterfell, of roaring fires and stifling heat. He thought of furs and too sweet wine.

_Stay with me_

Cersei’s voice cracked in his mind like the dying fire, All but extinguished at the memory of Brienne’s broken sobs echoing after him the whole ride to Kings Landing.

_Stay with me_

He had truly believed that he would be able to get Cersei from Kings Landing, or that he would die trying. He had been ready to do it, to die or forget all about what it felt like to feel the first tendrils of happiness creeping in with Brienne. He had been sure that their last night together would have to be their last night. That it would be last time he ever saw her or Winterfell, that he would have no choice but to never return.

His blood was sticky against his skin and as he stared into the fire it hit him that that was no longer true. He had the option to return, to make amends for the way he’d left her.

He pressed harder against the wound, a hiss of pain passing his lips as he did.

_Stay with me_

He didn’t have to die. Not yet. Not here.

Jaime pushed himself up fingers tingling as he drew a slow breath and stood on shaky legs.

_Stay with me_

He looked down at Cersei, his heart aching as she stared back with glassy eyes.

_Stay with me_

He took a step towards the door and despite everything that ever told him otherwise he didn’t crumble, he didn’t get yanked back towards Cersei. He took another step, and another, nothing happened, no hands pulled him back, the blood on leaking through his fingers didn’t run faster.

He pressed a shoulder against the door and it opened. His head swam as he stepped through it, heart in his throat as he turned back to take one last look at Cersei, his brow pinched as the door closed and nothing happened. He didn’t combust or drown on the air. He was just there, A twin without its pair.

_Stay with me_

The sounds of footsteps broke through the haze in his mind. He expected a guard, the mountain perhaps, expected one of Cersei’s men there to put an end to him because one couldn't live without the other, that was what he’d always believed. But it wasn’t, instead, he was faced with Jon Snow, bloody and out of breath. He wondered if the boy had figured out what he’d planned to do, Whether he’d thought he’d find Cersei’s room empty. The Lannister twins already gone.

He let his eyes fall back to the door, behind it Cersei was dead and yet here he was, alive, standing alone. Jaime tugged at the straps wound around his arm, ripping them loose.

Jon met his gaze and Jaime let his chin drop in a slow nod, a silent answer to a question he would forever be grateful Snow hadn’t actually voiced. Even so, the boy understood the answer, his eyes widened and his shoulders dropped in relief so suddenly it almost left a broken laugh bubbling out of his lips. His sisters death brought _relief_ and, as much as he hated it, he understood why, felt the tendrils of it clawing at his own insides even as the sorrow overflowed within him.

The golden glove clattered to the ground. Snow moved back the way he came. footfalls hurried and clumsy like a child running to wake their parents on their name day.

“Your queen is dead-” Jon shouted, voice like broken glass as Jaime walked away. He had no doubt it would be a rousing speech, it was not, however, a speech he wanted to be privy to.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to set myself on fire for writing incest so thanks for that D&D. I'l try and get the next chapter up soon. It's a lot more fun i swear. (bulk written in a panic a couple hours before ep 5 came out so sorry about the spelling, i was just trying to finish so i could watch the episode live.


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